


Is This the Real Life?

by neverinthemoment



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Everyone's at uni, Instead of Wayward Son?, M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Book 1: Carry On, Slice of Life, Takes place in London, There will be scones, but only a little angst, domestic snowbaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverinthemoment/pseuds/neverinthemoment
Summary: Simon, Baz and Penny are all trying to get on with their lives - going to uni, working part-time jobs, exploring a world without the Humdrum.But when Penny informs the boys about an unexpected visitor, one who promises to test their relationship, can they overcome their own anxieties and learn to communicate with one another?Post Carry On, Pre Wayward Son





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear reader! 
> 
> Firstly, thank you for choosing to read this. It means more to me than you could ever imagine.
> 
> I’ve been reading fanfiction for a few years now, and I’ve finally found the confidence to post something myself.  
Carry On (and anything Rainbow writes, really) has been close to my heart since it first came out. I always found myself turning back to Simon and Baz for comfort, and for a really long time, when I had trouble falling asleep, I would try to induce a dream about this fic, like a movie in my head. So, I finally decided to write it all out. (I tried to recreate Fangirl, and get this story out before Wayward Son was released, but life happens).
> 
> Also, yes, I’ve read Wayward Son. Yes, I thought it was amazing. Yes, I also thought it was heartbreaking. Usually, when books or movies are realistic, I don’t like them because they feel too real and hit too close to home. Finishing Wayward Son left me in shock, but I wouldn’t want it any other way and I only trust Rainbow to break open my heart like that. (And tie it back together, chamber by chamber).
> 
> I’d love to hear your thoughts, but like I said, long-time reader, first time poster, so please be gentle. Of course, and feedback is always welcome (my major concerns are pacing (right now it feels a little fast), repetition and of course, spelling and grammar, but there could be more that I’m missing), but please be gentle, my confidence is fragile.
> 
> Thanks for making it to the end of my spiel, and I hope you enjoy! Happy reading!

# BAZ

Watching Simon at the door, struggling to close his umbrella, is painful. Everything he does makes a scene.

I decide it’s best to intervene. “Pass it here, Snow.”

“I can … if it would just … Crowley … here.” He hands me the umbrella, still looking at his shoes.

“All right?” I ask. The umbrella closes with a click.

“It’s been stuck open all day. At the store I couldn’t leave it on the floor and had to put it in the stock closet. It took up all the free space to move around.” Snow got a job at a student-run bookstore near his uni campus. He says all the books there are second-hand just like he is. When I tried to ask him what that meant, he said that he didn’t really know, it just felt right. 

“And then you just –” he’s making a flailing gesture with his arms now. He’s still on about the umbrella then. I’ve learned just how common it is for him to fixate on these kinds of inconveniences, no matter how small, and if he’s this worked up about a battered umbrella, I’ll never understand how he survived all those years spent on exposing me for my ‘plotting’. So, I take both his hands in mine, pull them together, and center his attention.

“Well, the problem’s solved now, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eye at me, “… yeah.”

“All right. Find a stool at the bar, I’m almost done here.”

I, on the other hand, work at a Costa Coffee. It’s not that I need the money, rather something to pass the time. My lectures are interesting, but not challenging, and I don’t want to waste my days sitting around twiddling my thumbs. I prefer to keep busy.

By my second week on the job, I had picked up on just how much the Normals rely on their caffeine, it almost runs parallel to my dependence on blood. “Every day to feel good, every few days to stay sane,” one lady told me when I handed her her usual medium roast. It completely caught me off guard.

Working at a coffee shop has also given me free range to try out new flavor combinations, as many as I fancy. The manager encouraged it. My newest blend, a bonfire spiced latte with a shot of pumpkin spice and a sprinkle of cinnamon, stirred up a fair amount of buzz with the regulars. The cinnamon complimented the caramel and the hint of smoke; it was the perfect blend for the transition from summer to autumn.

Snow will meet me at work when his lectures are finished for the day and, like a gentleman, he’ll walk me home. I spend more nights over at his and Bunce’s place than I ever do at Fiona’s flat, so I found a posting with the shop around the corner from their building.

Sometimes, I work the closing shift and Snow will sit at the bar near the register working on his essays and readings for class. It can be distracting. If you had told me a year ago, while I was trapped in a coffin, that this is the life I could except, I would’ve never believed you.

But here sits Simon Snow listening to another barista, Rachel, while he waits for me. She’s chatting his ear off about some tragedy of a date she went on last weekend. All my co-workers love Simon; they tolerate me. Which is fine really, Snow is all I care about. And I guess Bunce, too, by association. I always knew she was clever, but I’ve seen that she’s also bolder than I imagined, and it makes for great conversation. Not that I’d admit that to her, though.

My issue with Rachel, however, is that she’s more interested in having a “gay best friend,” than _actually_ being friends with Snow. I find it ironic since I’m the one who’s _actually_ certain of my sexuality, and Simon is, well, Simon. I can imagine the horror should I casually let it slip to Rachel about Simon and Agatha’s past epic storybook romance and just what her reaction would be. But Rachel would never confide in me. I intimidate her.

“What does it mean? Do you think he’ll call?” Rachel asks. Merlin help her if she thinks Snow will have any useful advice. He’s making this face that tells me he’s having trouble keeping up.

I hurry to secure lids on mine and Simon’s to-go cups and try save my boyfriend from having to stutter out an answer. He’s been doing that now – stuttering – when he gets nervous.

“Rachel,” I say behind her. She flinches. “Can I have Simon back now?” I swear he almost sneers at me.

“S-sure,” she croaks and starts again. “Sure thing, Baz.”

“I balanced the till, so you just have to count it again at close.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay, thanks. That’s great.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m off now and Martin should be in at 6 to help you with the close.” Rachel nods and scatters away to her post by the till.

I look back and Snow is glaring at me.

“Why do you do that?” he asks.

I know what he’s talking about, but it’s more fun to string him along. “Do what?”

“You call me Simon when you talk _about_ me, so why is it so hard to call me by my name when you talk _to _me.”

I ignore him.

“Gather your things Snow or we’ll be late to meet Bunce. Didn’t you get her message?” He slings his straps over his shoulders and follows me to the door.

“Honestly, what do I have to do to get you to call me Simon?” He’s struggling to open his umbrella this time.

“Tell you what – when you can open and close your own umbrella, I’ll start calling you Simon,” I say, already a few paces ahead.

I turn around to hand him his hot chocolate and then I spell open his umbrella. Snow’s mouth hangs open as I continue on my way, back to the flat.

“Waste of magic,” I hear him mutter.

# SIMON

I made a stir fry for dinner. They’re pretty hard to mess up, unless you cook the vegetables too long and they burn. So, I didn’t let Baz help. He’d probably have set the pan on fire with his magic and then called me a moron for it. To my face. I don’t know why I thought being boyfriends with Baz would make him be nicer, but I guess I can always count on him to be honest.

Penny’s gotten pretty good with her cooking spells. She used to burn everything and the whole flat would smell like a hundred different flavors all at once. It would take days to reverse it.

She’s gotten better, but I still limit the amount of magicked meals we eat. I like doing some things the Normal way. Not that I have a choice anymore.

It’s been a while since we’ve all eaten together. Penny and I always try to eat dinner together, and Baz is here more nights than he’s not, so it’s usually the three of us. Baz _does_ eat with us. He wouldn’t at first because he didn’t want Penny to see his fangs, but I kept nagging him and kissing him a bunch and he eventually gave in.

Last week we all had midterms, so we haven’t eaten together in ages. I feel better tonight, things will return to normal.

“So,” Penny starts, “I’m sure you both have been dying to hear my news.”

“Too late Bunce, I’m already dead,” Baz says, taking a sip from his tea. I kick his leg under the table. He winks at me, the bastard.

“Anyway,” she continues, ignoring Baz. “As you know, we have fall break next week.” I haven’t forgotten. I’m counting down the days and since today is Monday, so we only have four days of classes left. “Well, guess who else has a break from school next week.”

Baz looks at me. I shrug.

“Micah?” I guess.

“No, he has an internship this term, so he doesn’t get a break,” she waves her hand dismissively at me. “Anyway, it’s Agatha.”

Agatha. I haven’t seen her since Christmas Eve at Baz’s. I haven’t talked her since then either. Except Penny had me sign a birthday card for her. She said it would be easier if it was from the both of us. But I don’t think that counts as talking to Agatha.

Baz is the first one to say something.

“I didn’t know you and Wellbelove still talked.”

“She wished me a Happy Birthday. I was surprised she remembered when it was, but I think she regrets it. Since then I’ve been getting her to call every couple weeks or so. She says her parents don’t even call her as much as I do, but I don’t want her to think we’ve forgotten about her.”

“Maybe she wants to be forgotten, Bunce.”

“I don’t think so, she just wants to be a Normal.”

Normal. Agatha wants to be Normal. I wish I could tell her how Normal isn’t as promising as she believes it is.

“_Anyway_,” Penny continues, “her parents miss her. I think they’re suffering from empty-nest syndrome or something, but they want her to come home for break. So that’s the news. Agatha’s coming back, and she’s going to visit. On Friday. Agatha’s coming to visit on Friday, and I told her she could spend the night if she wants.”

“Agatha’s coming here?” I’m trying to hide my excitement. But I am excited.

Penny nods.

“Didn’t you tell me she got a dog?”

Penny nods again.

“Couldn’t catch it from the horse’s mouth, Snow?” Baz asks.

I shake my head. “I haven’t talked to her since Christmas Eve.” Baz raises any eyebrow at me.

# BAZ

Well, I should’ve seen _this_ coming. I knew Wellbelove would have to come back to England eventually, but I thought I would’ve had more time. I was beginning to enjoy this reality, but I should’ve known better, some things are too good to be true.

Once Snow sees her again, I’ll be finished. He’ll run back – sprint back – to Wellbelove. And now that Snow’s a Normal (sort of), she’ll happily take him back.

_She just wants to be Normal._ Snow is finally everything she wants. No more monsters. No more wild goose-chase adventures. No more going off. There hasn’t been any of that in months.

I could be wrong. Maybe the wings will be enough to keep Wellbelove away. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to stick around to find out either way.

Snow has been spewing out a rapid-fire round of questions at Bunce all about California. I use it to make my Irish exit.

I stand and make my way to the door. I grab my jacket and my satchel, and I think about finding a way to spell the rest of my stuff back to Fiona’s.

“Baz?” I freeze, caught.

“Where are you going?” Snow calls from the table. I should’ve been more subtle, taken my dishes to the sink or something. Snow actually makes a good stir fry. Cooking is one thing he does better than me.

“Are you going to hunt?” he’s followed me to the door now.

“No.”

“Then where are you going?”

“Home.”

I’m out of practice. I used to be able to bark Snow off without flinching. It was practically my day job.

“To Oxford? You can’t leave, we have lectures tomorrow.” As if that’s what’s most important right now. I open the door to the flat.

“No.”

“To _Hampshire_?”

“NO.”

I walk out and slam the door behind me. I stomp down the stairs, but I don’t want to cry until I’m back at Fiona’s. She’s out of town so I’ll be able to do it in peace.

Choosing this – walking away from Simon – will probably be the hardest thing I’ll ever do, but I don’t want to stick around to suffer the heartache. Snow had a concerned looked on his face. He probably does care about me, but I don’t want to watch it all decimate. I’ll make myself suffer before I endure it from Snow.

I arrive on the street and pause to collect myself before catching the tube.

# SIMON

Penny joins me at the foyer after the door slams.

“Where is he going?” Penny asks.

I shrug. “I’m not sure.”

“Should we go after him?”

“No,” I say. I narrow my eyes and think about what I said that sent Baz off. “I’ll go. He seemed upset. Ju–j–just stay here, all right?”

Penny has a nervous look in her eyes, but she nods.

I run down the stairs and hope I can catch him.

“Baz,” I call out as soon as I open the main door. “Baz, wait.” I spot him hunched over halfway down the street to the tube. “Wait a second.” I should’ve put my shoes on, the concrete tiles are freezing in October.

“Leave me alone, Snow.” He doesn’t even look back. I guess he wasn’t expecting Penny to run after him anyway.

“Is this about Agatha?” I ask

That got him to turn around, but he stays where he is.

“No, it’s about tube fares. They just go up and up and up. Maybe one day they’ll even float away.”

“What are you on about Baz?” I’ve gotten a lot better at spotting his sarcasm.

“Crowley, Snow.” Baz marches back to steps of the building, where I’m standing. “Read the room. No one should have to tell you these things. Yes, it’s about Wellbelove. Are you satisfied?” He hisses.

“No, I want to understand. I want to fix it.”

He sighs.

“You’re finally everything she wants. There’s no fixing that.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s because you’re thick, Snow,” Baz says, rolling his eyes.

“No, it’s because you’re focused on the wrong thing.”

He lifts an eyebrow at me.

“Maybe you’re thinking that Agatha will want to get back together when she sees that I’ve lost my magic.” He sneers at me, so I must be right. I have thought about it before tonight, but I’ve decided it doesn’t matter. “But you haven’t thought about what I want.”

Baz looks away, almost ashamed.

“I want you. Just you. Only you.”

I tilt his chin up to get him to look at me. I’m standing on the last step into the building, so for once I’ve got about two inches over Baz. I feel in control – powerful. His face is bored, but his eyes are pleading, almost like he’s going to cry. So, I take him in both my hands and kiss him.

He finally begins to kiss me back and puts a firm grip on my hips. I don’t mind, I feel like I’d float away otherwise. 

I pull away and catch my breath. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Baz nods, his expression drops. He pulls his hands away and starts to turn, but I catch him by the wrist. I gesture back to the flat.

“This isn’t my home, Snow.”

“Yes, it is,” I insist.

“I don’t pay rent here.” 

“I never paid rent at Watford, and I still called our tower home for eight years.”

“You’re an idiot, Snow.” I swear he almost blushes, and he hasn’t even eaten today.

“Yeah, but at least we match,” I say, and pull him up the steps.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Agatha meet. Nothing goes as planned.

# BAZ

Simon Snow is the physical embodiment of chaotic energy. The final day of classes before the break and he has been bouncing around the flat all morning. I heard him, his wings, and the shower curtain get into a disagreement this morning and I had to catch a cup of tea from shattering on the floor. Snow had sent flying off the counter with his tail. Bunce and I shared a knowing look over it.

I tried to get him to calm down so I could spell his wings hidden, but it was useless. Bunce and I take turns so we don’t waste all our magic. Today is my turn, but my patience was running low.

“Would you quit fidgeting, Snow?” I hiss. I don’t mean for it to come out that way, but it catches Snow’s attention.

“Sorry.” He stops bouncing. “I just … it’s because … aren’t you …”

“Use your words,” I say with my hands resting on his shoulders.

“I can tell it’s going to be a good day. When was the last time you knew it was going to be a good day?”

I take him by the waist and pull him into me. “Every day with you is a good day, Snow.”

“Well, some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“Excuse me,” I tease, “aren’t you lucky to have a handsome bloke, such as myself, on your arms.” It’s a little self-serving, but I’m desperate to hear Snow whisper sweet things in my ears.

He wraps his tail around my leg – it’s invisible right now, but I have the feeling memorized – and he takes me by the back of my neck, drawing me in. I could get used to a confident Simon.

He walks over to his cluttered desk and packs some things in his rucksack. “Are you ready?” he asks, “I’ll walk you to work.”

I am.

\---

We step out of the building and walk towards the underground station. Simon actually took my hand today, and he’s pulling me down the stairs and out the front door when he stops dead in his tracks.

“My paper,” Snow is muttering. He takes a knee and rakes through his bag. He’s one step away from dumping all the bag’s contents on the pavement before he stands and rakes a hand through his hair.

“I forgot my paper! I have to turn it in by noon. Wait here,” he says and runs back inside.

How does he manage to get his trousers on straight each morning?

I hear someone approach from behind.

“Well, hello stranger.”

Wellbelove. She’s here early.

I turn around to meet her face. She’s dressed in a fitted maroon dress, a soft-beige trench coat and leather knee-high boots. She’s ties everything together with a classic Burberry scarf. You’d never know she spent the past eight months in California when she looks like she walked out of a John Louis advert.

I think she’s waiting for me to say something, but for the first time Wellbelove has left me speechless.

Wellbelove forces a smile and flips a lock of hair behind her shoulder.

“Do you live here too?” she asks, pointing to the front door.

I’m trying to follow her trail and look like I suspect her of something and not like she should suspect me for murder.

“This is the address Penny gave me to her and Simon’s flat, do you live in this building, too?”

“I guess you could say that,” I reply with a coy smile. I haven’t forgotten the other night on the steps, when Snow told me this was my home too. Dragon boy has turned me soft inside.

“You have to join us for dinner.”

“Now, let’s not be hasty, I don’t have to do anything,” I say, looking away. 

“Look Baz,” she sighs, “I know I owe you an apology.”

I raise my eyebrow, struggling to find my voice.

“I think chasing after you last year, I thought being with you would be the answer to finding myself. I wanted to have more control over my own life, and I thought if you and I were together instead of me and Simon, I would have found it because it would’ve been a choice I made. But that was never fair to you.”

“Is that right?” I manage. I have my hands in my pockets.

“But what I needed, what I was really looking for, was my independence. It was being at Watford that was suffocating.”

“Naturally.”

I should leave now, but Simon asked me to wait for him and I don’t want him to think I left without him. And I really don’t want him to run into Wellbelove alone.

“C’mon Basil, isn’t it time to mend some fences, build bridges instead of burn them? The war is over after all!”

As if on cue, Snow comes tumbling out the front door waving his paper around. He trips down the stairs and I catch him in my arms.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

He wraps his arms around me and uses all his force to kiss me on the lips. He squeezes me and runs off the other way. “See you tonight,” he calls out, waving his arm that’s holding a firm grip on his paper.

I turn back to Agatha, but don’t risk looking her in the eye.

“I guess I will be joining you for dinner,” I say and walk off. I don’t want to be late for my shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short chapter - sorry to leave you hanging.
> 
> I'll post the next one in a couple of days or two, Wednesday probably!


	3. Chapter 3

# BAZ

I was a wreak at work. I growled at my coworkers and served customers in a series of one-word answers. Not that I’m exactly known for being cheerful, but I’m always polite with customers – as is the Grimm way. But after this morning, all bets are off.

My mind is filled with all the cruel things Wellbelove could be saying. She usually carries an air of disinterest – or at best indifference – but when she’s angry, she’ll run her mouth at anyone who will listen. Poor Bunce is probably getting an earful.

Now I’m sat outside their building with a bag of cherry scones. I wanted to be back at the flat before Simon to help smooth out the waters. He didn’t even see Wellbelove this morning when he left.

Typical.

When I arrived at their flat door Agatha was still on about it all.

_“Simon can’t be gay Penny! Haven’t you told him that he’s just confused?”_

_"I told you Agatha – he is confused. But he’s certain about Baz.”_

_"And you just let it happen? Did you do anything to stop it?”_

_“Why would I?”_

_“You always get involved in other’s people business, it’s in your nature to meddle, but when it comes to what actually matters you just stand down?”_

_“Why do you even care so much?”_

_“Penelope – he is a _vampire_.”_

_“I live and breathe, Agatha.”_

I walked away when I heard Wellbelove ask what would happen if I bit Simon. I didn’t want to hear Bunce’s answer – if she had one.

Now, I’m sat on the bottom step fiddling with my jacket cuffs when Snow returns.

“Baz?”

He’s walking up with his coat zipped up and his hands in his pockets. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this cool. Relaxed, for once.

“Snow,” I toss him the bag of scones, “catch.” He does.

“How long have you been out here?”

“Not long,” just the better half of an hour.

“You know you can go in without me, Penny doesn’t mind. Do you have your key?”

Snow got a key cut for me three days after he and Bunce moved in. She said she could just magic one, but Snow insisted. It was his first Normal affair; he handed it to me in a suede box – like he was proposing. I kissed him sideways that day.

I nod.

“Is Agatha here, yet?” Snow makes his way to the front door. I catch him by the waist.

I messaged Bunce and told her to send a text when Agatha had calmed down. I didn’t want to ruin dinner for Simon, he’s been looking forward to it, and it’s been refreshing to see him excited for once, even if Wellbelove is behind it all. Not that things with Snow have been trying, but he’s still recovering from it all (we all are) and I don’t want him to have another reason to regress and overthink. Really, I don’t want him to overthink me and realize he’s made a mistake.

“I need you to come with me somewhere first,” I whisper in his ear, maybe I can seduce him into my scheme.

“Can I drop off my rucksack first?” he asks.

“But then you’ll go inside and see Agatha and Penny _and the food_ and get distracted and we’ll never get away.”

“We’re _supposed_ to be having dinner, this isn’t me getting distracted by food.”

“It’s just at Fiona’s, there’s a bottle of red wine there I thought we could have with dinner, to celebrate.” I’m improvising, delaying the inevitable. I rest my chin on Snow’s shoulder and squeeze tighter, “please, come with me?”

“Yeah, okay,” Snow says and turns back towards the tube station. I want to take his hand, but I can tell when I’ve reached my limit.

\---

When we get back to the flat, I still haven’t heard from Bunce.

# SIMON

Baz dragged me out to the West End to pick something up at Fiona’s flat. We didn’t even talk on the tube, so I don’t know why he asked me to come with him. But he did ask with his chin on my shoulder and his arm wrapped around my front, and I would probably follow him anywhere if he asked me like that. Plus, he brought me scones.

At least Fiona wasn’t there. She lives above one of the smaller theatres and frequents the casinos near the Hard Rock Café. Baz says it’s all work for the Families, and now the new reformed Coven.

It’s not that I don’t like Fiona, it’s just that she scares me a little. Out of everyone in his family I think his stepmother, Daphne, is probably my favourite. She makes the most elaborate dinners. But I’d never tell Baz that, I think it would insult him and his birth mother (thought, I never really met her, just during her Visiting, but I imagine she was more intimidating than Fiona).

Penny, however, _idolizes _Fiona. They get on about music every time we visit.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

“Of course, _you_ would think it’s funny,” I say now, as we walk back into our flat.

“I don’t, I think it’s hilarious,” Baz says, still laughing about it.

“Aren’t those just metaphors?”

“You mean similes, Snow. No wonder you were such a terrible mage, can’t even keep your literary devices straight.”

“Whatever,” I mutter under my breath.

I kick off my trainers and walk into the kitchen. I wave through the cloud of smoke and see that there is soot and food scraps splattered on the ceiling.

“SIMON!” Penny and Agatha exclaim at the same time, like they’re surprised to see me.

“Looks like you two got into more trouble than Snow did,” Baz says coming up behind me.

“What trouble? Are you in danger Simon?” Penny asks me, with a spatula in one hand and a cookbook in the other.

I shake my head, “No.”

“Just another major social faux pas to add to the tally. Snow hit an old lady with his wings.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” I repeat for at least the eighth time.

We were walking back to the tube and a pigeon or a rat or _something_ jumped out at me and it made my wings flare out. I can’t control them when I’m startled like that. Baz had to use a memory spell on the lady, but it took him forever to compose himself because he was laughing so hard.

“What wings?!” Agatha asks.

I look at Penny.

“I don’t know what to tell you, we’ve already cast the spell today. I can’t just take it back. If you could take spells back, you wouldn’t still have your wings,” she says. She’s annoyed.

“Hold on, I have a photo,” Baz says scrolling through his mobile.

Of course he has a photo.

“When did you give yourself wings Simon?" Agatha asks. "And why?”

I shrug.

“He’s had them since Christmas. Showed up at my front door like that,” Penny says over Agatha’s shoulder, pointing at the photo on Baz’s mobile.

“Why haven’t you been to see my father?” Agatha asks, she’s still talking to me.

I shrug again.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” I say so quietly I think only Baz could hear me. But it’s only partially true, anyway.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Simon. He can help, I’ll go with you if you want.”

“Agatha – ” I have to tell her about Baz and I, but I don’t want her to get upset and leave. She just got back.

“So, what shall we do about dinner?” Baz asks holding up the bottle of wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably my favourite chapter to write. Most of the ideas only came to me once I actually sat down to write, so it felt like an adventure. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the story so far, we just have one chapter left. Thank you so much for reading! I never thought I would have shared this with anyone, but I'm eternally grateful that I have.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it folks! Final chapter!
> 
> Thank you for coming on this journey with me. This is by far the most intimidating thing I've ever done in my life, and I'm so thankful for such a positive experience. You're comments and kudos have made my heart grow three sizes.

# AGATHA

We settle on ordering Chinese take-away, which I’ll take over one of Penelope’s magicked meals. I don’t want to eat anything that’s made from her ring and sheer will.

Also, Chinese food feels like the most natural thing in the world after everything today.

Simon is gay.

I found out at 10 o’clock this morning and I’m still not completely over it. Penny told me that I’m over-reacting, but I think my response is completely justified. She could _have_ told me. She forces me to call her enough, a little heads-up would’ve been greatly appreciated.

Anyway, ‘he’s not sure what he is,’ according to Penny. Which is honestly the most typical Simon response to anything.

Maybe it’s better he’s with Baz so we can all eat together. I think it’s less awkward than it just being the three of us. If Simon is with Baz, maybe Simon and I can have a chance at being friends.

He’s asked me all about California and San Diego State and Lucy. Penny and Baz told me most of what happened that day in the Chapel, and Simon was silent through it all.

We’re sat around the coffee table in the living room, as is the take-away tradition. Simon has three different types of meat on his plate and four different kinds of noodles. I take another dumpling and ask him how he’s finding uni.

“I get on fine. Really the worst part is picking out something to wear every day,” he says, tackling a sweet ‘n’ sour chicken ball.

Simon really loved everything about Watford, even the uniforms. I’m actually a little heartbroken that he lost his magic. The first Christmas he spent at my house he told me how excited he was to be a mage. He still couldn’t cast a spell then, but he said that after all the children’s homes that being at Watford was so much better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

Maybe I could give Simon my magic, if it really works that way.

“Are you taking any interesting classes?” I ask him.

“The ecology restoration class that Professor Bunce recommended is kind of interesting.”

“You don’t have to say that Simon – I’m not going to tell on you,” Penny interjects, inspecting her fried rice.

Simon ignores her, he’s still looking at me.

“And I like my intro to law course. But on the Tuesday after break I have a meeting with the Dean from the Department of the Arts.”

Baz chokes on his green tea.

Penny gasps.

“Are you _that_ behind, already Snow?”

Honestly, these people, it’s like the world has stopped spinning.

“What, no,” Simon argues.

“Simon, it’s okay, we still have time. We can devise a schedule to get you back on track,” Penny is already pulling out her calendar.

She flips it open to this month and I can see her color-coded madness in full-view.

“I’ll help, I don’t have classes or work on Tuesdays,” Baz says, looking over at Penny’s planner.

“That’s not–”

“Do you want me to come with you to your meeting with the Dean? I know you struggle with being persuasive, but it’s practically my middle name.” Baz doesn’t even look up at Simon to ask the question, his eyes glazed over the moment he saw Penny’s highlighting system.

“Basilton is your middle name,” Simon says under his breath. Neither Penny or Baz pay him any attention.

“Are they always like this?” I ask Simon. I don’t bother whispering, Penny and Baz are in their own universe.

He nods.

“We’ll have to review his syllabi, and all the assignments he’s submitted thus far,” Penny says. Baz nods in agreement.

“It’s not that kind of meeting,” Simon tries, but it doesn’t catch. He’s raking through his hair like he’s going to pull it all out.

“We could use Wednesdays for a group session for review.”

“Thursdays would work better, it’s after he’s had all his difficult courses for the week.”

“Stop. Stop it!” Simon exclaims. Penny and Baz finally look up at him. He’s still pulling at his curls.

“Just use your words, Snow,” Baz tells him. I can’t tell if he’s being condescending or not.

“I hate that phrase! I’m so tired of hearing it,” he’s yelling now.

“We’re just trying to help Simon, honestly,” Penny says, as if she is the one who should be offended.

“Well I didn’t ask for it,” Simon says, like he’s about to go off, but without the magic. I think this might actually be more frightening, probably because it feels so real. “I never ask for it, but you just give it anyway.”

“We just don’t want you getting lost, Simon,” Baz says, sincerely this time. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Baz call him by his first name.

“You both think I’m useless!”

“Simon, we don’t –” Penny sounds sorry for once, like she finally realized she crossed a line.

“You do! But I’m not. I just – I got on in the Normal world just fine. I did it for 11 years and I did it by myself. I don’t need either of you mapping out my life and controlling every second. I don’t know how many times I have to say it before it sticks – I didn’t fit in at Watford because I was never supposed to be there.”

“Love, you don’t really believe that.”

“I do. I just … if you cou– … I need some air … I want to be alone.”

Simon walks out the door to the flat. He takes his shoes but not his jacket.

\---

We’ve been sat around the table for five minutes. No one has said anything, and no one has had another bite of food. I thought it would be Penny who would break the silence, but she doesn’t say anything before Baz stands up.

# BAZ

“I’m going to, uh, get something to drink,” I say to the girls. The cat’s out of the bag with Wellbelove, but I don’t know how comfortable she is with my being a vampire, so I don’t want to get into specifics. I wanted to say I was going hunting; I didn’t even have anything to eat tonight.

“You don’t have to announce yourself Baz,” she says, waving her hand at me.

“It’s because he’s lying,” Bunce interjects, “he’s going to go look for Simon.”

It’s annoying how observant she is. I cross my arms in response.

“Baz, you can’t go after him,” Wellbelove says.

“I can do as I please, thank you,” I say, sneering.

“And what do you think that will accomplish?” she asks.

“It’ll bring him back here, and I’ll tell him how ridiculous he’s being.”

“Agatha, we can’t just let him wander around all night. Trouble practically follows Simon wherever he goes,” Bunce argues. She may have called me out, but at least she knows I’m right.

“You two are impossible!”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Bunce asks.

“Actually, I do,” she answers, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, because you’re the expert on Simon Snow,” I spit. It comes out a little harsher than I intended, but I don’t feel like apologizing. I’m not sure where this pent-up resentment towards Wellbelove is coming from. But she looks sad.

Penny pulls on my trousers, signaling me to sit down.

“Look,” Wellbelove begins, looking at Penny, “I know you think I’ve acted selfishly and that when I broke up with Simon it was because I didn’t love him, but that’s not true.”

I want to scoff, but I’m trying to keep composed. Bunce is having a field day, nodding at Agatha’s every word, like she’s a detective and she’s finally solved the Wellbelove case.

“I love Simon, I do, but I broke up with him because we weren’t in love. Seeing him again today, I know I care about him just the same, and it’ll be easier to love him knowing he won’t be killed off in some battle. But right now, it’s you two who are the ones loving Simon wrong.”

“I beg your pardon, Wellbelove?” I demand.

“You’re treating him like some broken thing. Like he is lesser without his magic. If you open your circle and talk to a Normal or two, you would see that Simon is fully functional and has potential to do great things.”

“No offence, but you haven’t been here Agatha. We just want what’s best for him,” Bunce says.

“Please. You don’t know what’s best for him, you just assume based on what’s best for you. You’re both so desperate for trouble, you’re already planning before you could wait and find out what that meeting was about.”

I stand again, I can hear Bunce and Wellbelove calling me, but I’m not looking for Simon this time, I’m going to look for answers.

I go into his room and start shuffling through the papers on his desk. Snow came home a few weeks ago with a sealed envelope, something with a detailed letterhead.

I find the letter I’m looking for and reach for his black notebook, flipping through the pages.

“The bastard,” I whisper.

I go back to the living room and toss the letter to the girls. “I’m going to find Simon. Don’t try and stop me, and don’t try and follow me,” I say, directing that last bit directly to Bunce before she can get any ideas.

\---

Finding him should’ve been easier than this, with my enhanced senses, but it turns out I was scouring the wrong plane.

I find him sitting on the roof of his building. He’s looking for stars, not that you can see any in London. You have to drive at least 40 minutes out of the city before the smog starts to let up.

“Did you fly up here, Snow?” I ask, coming up behind him.

He looks back at me, he’s been crying. I can see the red in his eyes, even in the dark of the night.

“Yeah,” he says, sincerely, “no one saw.”

“That’s a shame,” I say, “you should be showing off.”

His mouth falls open.

I take a seat beside him.

“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Snow.”

His mouth is still open, but he closes it to shake his head at me.

“You are,” I insist, knocking his shoulder with mine.

“I was, but I’m not anymore, we’ve been over this” he says.

“I know, but I’m not talking about magic this time. I’m talking about how they’ll be hanging your stuff in the National Gallery. You’re an artist, Snow. Why didn’t you tell me?”

His notebook was filled with detailed watercolour designs and sketches of landscapes, cityscapes and portraits. But my favourite is just a simple sketch of Bunce and I having tea. I don’t remember him ever drawing in front of us, maybe he did it from memory. Bunce does make a lot of tea.

“It’s not like your's or Penny’s work. It’s not of any importance.”

“Wrong. Art is of much importance, this has opened up a whole new vocabulary for you, Snow. You were meant to create.”

“It’s easier not to think when I’m drawing.”

“I’ll never tell you to use your words again – I’ll just hand you a pen and paper from now on.”

Snow bumps me back with his elbow.

I wrap an arm around him and squeeze. Snow leans in and rests his head on my shoulder. I kiss him gently on his temple and rest my chin in his mess of curls.

We stay like that until Snow starts to shiver from the cold. He flies me back down to the front door and we walk up the stairs to the flat. Bunce puts on a film, a black and white classic. It leaves me and the girls hanging off every word and puts Simon to sleep. But it’s all right because he is tucked up against me on the couch and it’s all surprisingly pleasantly Normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk. What do you think of Artist!Simon? Sometimes I think making a character an artist in fanfiction can be a little cliche. But I truly think for Simon to tap into this new hidden talent - given all his trouble with words and how he didn't speak when he was super young - that he would be better able to express himself with drawing than with words. I have no research to back this up, but I thought it was fitting.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little slice of life tale that I've created. Really, I've spent way too long pondering over it, and I'm glad it finally exists in the world. It was great practice to stretch my writing muscles in a new way.
> 
> I've actually planned a second arc for this story. I've only just started, and I think it's going to be more 'involved' plotwise. I want to start posting it for the beginning of December, which is sorta perfect, because it's going to be a Snowbaz Christmas, one year later. It has also accidentally turned into a Snowbaz roadtrip too (but in the UK instead of America). I hope that piques your interest just a little. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and I'll catch ya on the flip side!


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